Never had the heavens been so blue or the sunshine so bright,--never had the hemlocks filled the air with such exquisite fragrance as upon this blissful day, when Paul lightly trod the forest-path towards Castle Reifenstein. A shepherd-boy upon a distant mountain jodelled down to him, and Paul could not refrain from jodelling back a full clear note, that echoed far over the sunny valleys.

He could have embraced the world. He had suddenly been transported from the black depths of despair to the heights of hope. A future, with Hilda by his side, beckoned him. Where were all the gloomy reveries of the last few weeks? As he walked briskly up the steep ascent, he thought with horror of the dark temptation to self-destruction that had once assailed him. Yes, Leo was right when he declared that only a coward would ever seek such a solution of the problem of life,--that a true man should possess a 'heart for any fate.' When he had nearly reached the castle he heard well-known voices near him, and could not forbear giving another genuine Tyrolean jodel.

"That is Delmar's voice!" Leo exclaimed.

"Oh, no; it is long since Herr Delmar has shouted so gayly," Hilda replied.

A second louder and gayer jodel was Paul's reply, as he turned in the direction whence the voices came, and passing through a short stretch of woodland, reached a small rocky plateau, whither Hilda had brought her guests because it afforded them the best view down into the fearful chasm in the rocks.

"You were wrong, lovely fairy," said Paul, as he joined the small party, taking Hilda's offered hand as he spoke; "no man upon earth can shout as gayly as I can when inspired by the hope of seeing you."

'Lovely fairy!' Paul had never bestowed this title upon Hilda since the first day of their meeting; since then he had always addressed her ceremoniously as 'FrÄulein von Heydeck,' and only rarely, in eager conversation, as 'FrÄulein Hilda.' Hilda heard therefore in surprise, and, blushing at the remembrance of that first day, looked up at him. How changed he seemed since yesterday! His dark eyes sparkled with gayety, a happy smile played about his lips,--he was the same frank, light-hearted man whom she had so liked at their first interview, and yet--no, not the same; he had become far handsomer and more attractive; she had never liked him half so well as now.

Leo also noticed the change which the few hours since he had last seen his friend had effected in him. "What good news do you bring us?" he asked. "I have hardly ever seen you look so gay."

"Have you found that out already?" Paul asked in his turn, with a laugh. "I revere your powers of observation, and will reward them with a share of the treasures to be found in my pockets. But good children should restrain their curiosity and wait patiently until it is satisfied. If you love me, do me the kindness to act as guide to FrÄulein Eva and our betrothed couple on their way to the castle garden, and resign your former guide, the lovely fairy of the castle, to me for a few minutes. I trust she will grant me a hearing for that short space of time."

This request had so strange a sound that Hilda grew confused, and looked uncertain whether to grant it, but when Delmar added, in a low, eager tone, "It is my first request; can you refuse me?" she shyly placed her hand within his offered arm and lingered with him behind the others, whom Leo, as Delmar had asked him to do, conducted to the castle garden.

Paul walked along slowly at Hilda's side, preserving an entire silence until their friends were out of hearing. Then he turned to his companion and said, "I owe you an explanation of much that must have struck you strangely in my manner and behaviour during these last few weeks. Will you hear me, Hilda? Will you let me be frank with you?"

It was the first time that Delmar had called the girl by her first name,--that he had spoken to her in so earnest and yet so confidential a tone. She divined what he wished to say, but she did not refuse to listen. Her low-whispered 'yes' enchanted him; it told him that he did not hope in vain.

Paul continued: "That little 'yes,' dearest Hilda, makes me inexpressibly happy; it tells me that you trust me, and I would have you trust me, now and forever, freely and unconditionally. You must have seen that from the first moment when I met you, my lovely fairy, in the labyrinth of rocks, my heart has been yours. I revelled in the hope of one day winning your heart and your hand also. I was happy, exquisitely happy! But my dream of bliss lasted but two short days. I was suddenly and rudely awakened from it by the startling and as I thought absolute certainty that your father never would bestow upon me your hand, and that therefore I must not even try to win your heart. I can never, my dear Hilda, tell you what created in me this belief. Here you must trust me implicitly. You must never know the dark mystery that interposed between us, nor the cause I thought there was for the utter despair to which I was a prey. Life lost all value in my eyes; the reckless gayety which sometimes distressed you, as well as the morbid melancholy that assailed me when I was alone, was the result of the terrible conviction that possessed me that you never could be my own,--that I could never be more to you than a faithful friend and brother.

"But to-day I have learned, to my unspeakable joy, that all my fears were but idle baseless visions,--that I was deceived, and that I deceived myself,--that I may in all honour tell you how passionately I love you, and may hope, if you will but let me try to win your love in return, that your father will consent to give you to me. Will you, can you love me, Hilda? Will you come with me to your father and hear me pray him to give me this dear hand for my very own?"

Hilda looked up into his face with a happy smile, and he needed no reply in words; indeed she could have given him none, for in an instant his arms were about her, and his kisses sealed her lips.

She extricated herself from his embrace, and her pleading eyes restrained his passionate outburst. He still however clasped in his the little hand, which he kissed repeatedly, saying, "Come, come to your father, lovely fairy! This moment must confirm the happiness of my future life."

Hilda conducted him across the castle court-yard to her father's study, whither Herr von Heydeck had withdrawn from the presence of his daughter's guests.

He was so absorbed in his work that he did not hear the door open; only when Paul and Hilda stood close beside him did he look up from his books, and as his gaze rested upon Delmar the same look of horror with which he had greeted his first appearance passed into his face. Again he put up his hand, as if to ward off some attack, while he seemed incapable of speech.

Paul was no whit daunted however. "Do not repulse me, Herr von Heydeck," he said, in a gentle voice. "I come not as your enemy, not to demand, but to entreat. I pray you to receive me as your son in granting me your daughter's hand."

The simple words fairly overwhelmed the old man. He had started forward in his arm-chair; he now sank back into it helplessly. "You--you ask to be my son? You sue for Hilda's hand,--and you know?----"

It was only with great difficulty that he gasped forth these broken sentences.

"I know everything," Paul replied calmly. "I come from Dr. Putzer's death-bed; he gave me these papers, which I now hand over to you. I pray you to destroy them; forget the past as I have forgotten it. Receive me as a son, who never will forget the respect he owes to the father of his dearest Hilda."

Herr von Heydeck clutched with a trembling hand the papers which Paul held out to him. He glanced at their contents, and his face was illumined by an expression of intense joy. The next instant he had torn the dreaded documents into countless shreds, after which he buried his head in his hands and burst into a convulsive fit of sobbing.

Paul did not disturb him, but whispering low reassuring words of tenderness to the astonished and frightened Hilda, he waited calmly until Herr von Heydeck had regained his composure. Only when the old man lifted his head and looked from his daughter to her lover with tear-dimmed eyes did Paul repeat his entreaty, adding, "Hilda has given me her heart,--you will not refuse my suit, Herr von Heydeck?"

"No, no; you shall be my son!" Herr von Heydeck exclaimed. "God grants me thus an opportunity of repairing the grievous wrong I did you. My Hilda will atone for my sin. She will be to you the angel of light which her sainted mother was to me!"

Again he was overcome by mingled emotions of joy and sorrow. His conscience had been burdened with the consciousness of his guilt; he had trembled at the thoughts of discovery for years, and he could not bear the sudden joy of this moment. Again he sobbed convulsively, only stammering, in broken accents, "Leave me now, my children. I must be alone. God bless you!"

Paul drew Hilda away from the room, knowing how greatly the old man must stand in need of repose, and the girl, not venturing to oppose her father's request, went with him willingly.

When however the study-door was closed behind them she paused. "What is the matter with my father? What wrong can he have done? Why should he be so overcome?" she asked, with an appealing look into her lover's eyes.

Paul clasped her tenderly in his arms. "Do you not believe, dearest, that I love you infinitely more than life?" he asked.

"Yes; I trust you implicitly."

"Then promise me, in this supreme moment, that you will never again ask me what your father's words meant. It is not my secret but his, and I could not in honour betray it even to you. But I swear solemnly that it is the only secret that shall ever be between us,--no thought of my heart shall be concealed from you. Will you not trust me? Believe me, I but obey the dictates of honour when I beg you to forget what you have heard. Will you promise me never to question either myself or your father upon the subject?"

"This kiss shall seal the promise that you ask!"

Leo had conducted the guests to the garden, there to await Paul and Hilda; he tried to engage them in pleasant talk, but he could not fairly succeed, for his thoughts would wander. They were with his friend, the change in whom he could easily interpret, for he knew that Paul had just had an interview with Dr. Putzer; and that the result had been a happy one for Hilda's lover, was plainly to be seen in his sparkling eyes and gay mood. And Paul had also had an interview with Bertram, which must have been satisfactory, or he would hardly have uttered the laughing remark about the treasures in his pockets. What did he mean? He had glanced so meaningly as he spoke, first at Eva and then at Leo. Heydeck was restless and impatient,--he guessed that one short hour might decide his fate, and yet he could not understand how the decision could be fortunate for him. He could conceive but of one happy future, and that seemed unattainable. He loved Eva with a passionate devotion which the familiar intercourse of the past few weeks had deepened tenfold. He knew that his love was returned, although no word that could betray his devotion to her had ever passed his lips. He had never transgressed the bounds of friendship, nor had she ever given him the slightest right to do so.

The consciousness that she was not indifferent towards him enchanted him, but at the same time it filled him with a despair that would often wellnigh overcome him when he was alone in his room standing in rapt contemplation of the picture,--the work not of his hand but of his heart. Eva's dark eyes gazed at him from the canvas with a look that seemed to promise the fulfilment of his boldest hopes, and in gazing he was sometimes beguiled into delicious dreams, from which he was startled by the consciousness of reality, and a stern voice within him crying, "Lost, lost forever!"

He knew that Paul could force Bertram to resign all pretensions to Eva's hand, but even if Eva should be free she was still lost to him. Could he, a poor artist, whose future life must be one of hard labour, aspire to the hand of the millionaire heiress? He had sacrificed to his principles a brilliant military career, his entire future, and even his father's affections. Could he be untrue to himself now? Honour forbade his ever addressing a word of love to Eva Schommer,--she was too rich!

When he wandered beside her through the lovely scenes among which their daily excursions were made, and she talked frankly and unrestrainedly with him, he could not but resign himself to the spell of her presence, but when he was once more alone those two words, 'too rich,' annihilated every hope within him. And now, while he awaited Paul's return, they destroyed all his anticipations of pleasure,--there could be no happiness for him whatever might be the result of Delmar's interview with Bertram; this was the verdict of his reason, but nevertheless his heart rebelled against so cold a sentence, and throbbed impatiently at the thought of his friend's return.

It was not long before Paul and Hilda made their appearance beneath the archway of the garden gate, arm in arm, their happiness so plainly to be seen in the countenance of each, that Leo knew, and Eva, Herwarth, and Aline suspected, what had happened, and hastened to meet them.

Paul received them with a laugh. "I see," he said, giving his hand to Leo, "you guess what I have to tell you, but nevertheless I am not going to be defrauded of the pleasure of presenting to you my lovely betrothed, Hilda von Heydeck. The betrothal has duly taken place, and I beseech your congratulations."

They were given in fullest measure. As Leo grasped his hand, Kuno reminded him of how, four weeks before, he had exclaimed, "Number One!" and had declared that he would purchase such bliss, not only with a miserable foot, but with his head.

"Exactly, I said so, and I repeat it," Paul replied, with a gayety which had its root however in deep earnestness. "Only fortunately, noble knight, the sacrifice of my head, which was nearer to being consummated than you dream of, was not required. I said 'Number One' then, never thinking that this lovely fairy would make me the happy 'Number Two.' Now we must find a 'Number Three,' that the trefoil may be perfect."

Then turning to Eva, he whispered, so as to be heard by her alone, "Is there do hope, FrÄulein Schommer, of your aid in making a happy 'Number Three'?"

Eva did not reply, save by a blush and a reproving glance, which assured Delmar he was understood, as she turned to Hilda and warmly wished her every happiness. Her reproving look, however, glanced harmlessly aside from Paul's armour of gayety, he only nodded and laughed, as he continued aloud, "Number Two is proud and happy to return thanks to his friends for their kind congratulations, which he receives as the result of his share of the treasures which he brought with him to Castle Reifenstein. It was due to my position as confirmed egotist to provide for my own welfare first; now I am at liberty to fulfil other duties which I have undertaken. I have certain interesting communications to make to FrÄulein Schommer. Will she kindly grant me an audience of a few minutes?"

Eva looked up at him, confused and in doubt, but he suddenly dropped his jesting tone and continued very gravely, "You owe the interview I request both to me and to yourself. Pray add your entreaty, Hilda, to mine."

Hilda smiled; she knew what Paul wished to say to Eva; he had briefly informed her on their way to the garden, and she eagerly seconded his request, and proposed that she herself should conduct Leo, Aline, and Herwarth through one wing of the castle, while Delmar showed Eva through the other, and that they should then all meet in the large hall. As she made this proposal she exchanged a glance of secret understanding with Paul.

Eva still hesitated, but Paul would take no refusal. He offered her his arm and led her through the garden across the courtyard and up the grand staircase to the wing in which were Leo's apartments. On the way he pointed out to her everything of interest in the interior decoration and architecture of the ancient pile, calling especial attention to the massive antique furniture of some of the rooms. At any other time all this would have been especially interesting to Eva, but to-day she scarcely looked at all the rare antiquities, and even at last ventured to interrupt the flow of Delmar's antiquarian enthusiasm, saying, "You certainly had something else to say to me, Herr Delmar, when you asked me for this tÊte-À-tÊte."

"You are right, FrÄulein Eva," Paul replied, hastening along the dim corridor, at the end of which was Leo's studio. "I will no longer excite your curiosity, since we have reached the room which I think the most appropriate place in which to tell you what I have to say."

He opened the door of a room which Eva entered. "Have you any idea of where we are?" Paul asked. The girl looked about her at the comfortable arrangements of the room, and her glance suddenly fell upon the easel, from which a face which she could not but recognize, regarded her with a gentle smile. The tears rushed to her eyes,--she knew well where she was, and with a burning blush she turned instantly to leave the room.

"You are unkind. I have not deserved this," she said, in a tone of soft reproach, as she laid her hand upon the door-latch.

Delmar, however, prevented her from opening the door; he took her hand and gently led her to the easel. "You must not, FrÄulein Eva," he said earnestly, "at such a moment as this give any consideration to mere conventionalities. This is a turning-point in your existence. Look at this picture. You know who has painted it, and you know that Leo's hand never could have executed so true a presentment of yourself if your image did not fill his heart and soul,--if you were not present at all moments to his mental vision. Far more convincingly than in words must this picture tell you of his entire devotion to you, and it is for this that I have brought you here."

"You are cruel!" was Eva's only reply. She had withdrawn her hand from Paul's, but she no longer thought of fleeing from the room. With sensations both of rapture and of pain she contemplated the picture. Yes, Delmar was right. The hand that had executed so true, so lifelike a resemblance must have been guided by the heart.

"I do not deserve your reproach," Delmar continued. "My only desire in bringing you here is to make you happy; you must see for yourself the truth of what I once told you of Leo. And now since there can be no doubt in your mind of the intensity of his affection for you, I may give you the letter which Herr von Bertram sends you through me."

He handed Eva Bertram's letter and watched her narrowly as she took it, half in surprise and half in terror, and read its contents.

He hoped to see her lovely features illumined by joy at her release, and gratitude to the messenger of freedom, but he was bitterly disappointed. Eva's face, so far from beaming with joy, expressed only profound sorrow, and a tear fell upon the paper as she read. When she had finished, her hands dropped at her sides and she gazed at Delmar with eyes filled with grief and regret.

"I thank you, Herr Delmar," she said gently. "I will preserve this letter as my most precious treasure. Although every line is a reproach to me for the weakness which at present prevents me from appreciating the happiness it should bring me, in time I shall conquer this weakness. I will read the noble words again and again, and they shall strengthen me if I should ever falter in the path which duty clearly points out for me to pursue. I will leave Tausens this evening. I dare not see Herr von Heydeck again. I pray you conduct me immediately to the inn; tell your friends how it grieves me to part from them, but that I now know my duty and cannot act differently."

Paul's astonishment and dismay at Eva's words are hard to describe; he had imagined all this so differently; he had anticipated with such certainty her thanks to him for her release, and now---- "I cannot understand you," he cried, in great agitation. "You wish to go to Tausens,--to leave without seeing Leo again? What reasons under the sun can you have for such a course? That letter releases you!"

"You are mistaken, Herr Delmar," Eva replied with dignity. "I am less free now than ever before. I have to atone for grievous wrong done to my betrothed." It was the first time that she had ever thus designated Bertram. "He was a victim of the wretched mistrust of every one from which my soul has so long suffered as from some disease. I believed that he loved, not myself, but my wealth, and therefore I treated him with cold severity,--yes, even with insulting harshness. I did not know the nobility of his character. I have learned it from the lofty self-renunciation of this letter. My eyes are at last opened. He has already sacrificed his future to me, and now for my sake renounces his last hope. To make me happy he gives me back my promise; but I will not accept this sacrifice at his hands. I know my duty and will fulfil it!"

"Good God, what nonsense! This is sheer madness!" Delmar cried, almost beside himself. "Is not that letter my----" He stopped short. He could not possibly tell Eva how he had occupied himself with her affairs of late, and that he had dictated Bertram's epistle in the hope of sparing her feelings. What was to be done in view of Eva's inconceivable resolve he could not see; he paced the room to and fro, racking his brains for some way out of the dilemma which was of his own fabrication.

"Herr Delmar, let me pray you to conduct me back to Tausens," Eva said, at last.

"No, FrÄulein Eva; you must not leave the castle without seeing Leo. You are mistaken about Bertram; you do not know your own heart. I will not let you act so hastily."

"I know my duty, and nothing that you can say will hinder me from its performance."

"Madness, sheer madness! my brain fairly reels at such insanity! What is to be done with these conscientious people who, from a pure sense of duty, sacrifice themselves and their dearest friends to confer happiness upon blockheads and scoundrels? You know your duty! Do you owe no duty then to yourself and to Leo, who loves you passionately and will be unutterably wretched if you run after that scoundrel?"

"Herr Delmar! I will permit no such expressions with regard to my betrothed, whose noble heart I have learned to know, alas, too late. If you will not conduct me to Tausens I must find the way thither myself, for I must not and will not see Herr von Heydeck again!"

Eva could not however fulfil this intention in spite of her firm resolve to do so, for scarcely had she spoken when hasty steps were heard in the corridor, the door opened, and Hilda entered with Leo, Aline, and Herwarth, and followed also by Eva's servant, honest Wilhelm, his sheepish face quite crimson with hurry and agitation.

"Forgive us, Eva dear, for coming for you so soon," said Hilda, "we could not help it, for your servant was anxious to see you instantly; he brings very extraordinary tidings from Tausens."

"Do not be frightened, my darling," Aline whispered, putting her arm around her friend. "Be sure that whatever has happened, although it may cause you momentary pain, will conduce to your happiness."

"But what has happened? Do not keep me in suspense, Aline!" Eva exclaimed.

Aline beckoned to Wilhelm, who came forward and told, as well as he could, all that Uncle Balthasar had commissioned him to say. The story was confused enough; the fellow was so agitated and embarrassed that he hardly knew what he was saying, but from his rambling tale his hearers gathered that Herr von Bertram had run off with pretty Nanette, who had stolen Aunt Minni's purse full of money out of her bureau, and that Uncle Balthasar was afraid they had taken the ebony casket besides.

"Impossible!" Eva exclaimed indignantly; "the man who could write this letter is incapable of such baseness. I appeal to you, Herr Delmar, to vindicate Herr von Bertram."

"I could not if I would," said Delmar, whose good humour had been entirely restored by Wilhelm's tale, and who had even laughed when Wilhelm mentioned Uncle Balthasar's fears lest Bertram and Nanette together had stolen the ebony casket.

"You must, Herr Delmar! You yourself brought me Bertram's letter, and you know its contents."

"Only too well, and that is just why I cannot undertake the writer's defence. But even I agree that we should not condemn the fugitives without proof positive of their guilt. We must instantly return to the village and learn the truth. You, Leo, will of course accompany us. My darling," he whispered to Hilda, "you must come too,--we must all be together to celebrate Number Three's betrothal."

"Did you succeed?" Hilda whispered.

"Not yet," Delmar replied, in as low a tone. "I have been a terrible blockhead, but, fortunately, this Bertram is a worse rogue, and his roguery will stand us in as good stead as my wisdom could have done."

Paul's proposal to go instantly to Tausens was of course put into immediate execution. Naturally, on the way thither the lovers walked together, and there was nothing for Eva to do but to accept Leo's escort. She walked at his side in extreme confusion, not daring to lift her eyes to his.

"Are you offended, FrÄulein Schommer?" Leo asked, after they had gone on for some time in silence.

"What right have I to be offended?"

"You certainly have a right if you think that I permitted Paul to take you to my room to show you the picture which you never should have seen. I swear to you that I had not the faintest idea of my friend's intention, or I should not have allowed him to fulfil it. He has offended you, and me through you, in permitting you to see what was utterly unworthy to be shown to any one, and I shall certainly take him to task for so doing."

"I am not offended," Eva replied in a faltering voice.

"You must be, FrÄulein Eva! It must vex you that I should have dared, without your permission, to paint your picture from memory, but I give you my honour that Delmar saw it only by accident, that I never would voluntarily have shown it to him, and that you never ought to have known of its existence."

Eva did not reply, and the rest of the way to Tausens was passed in perfect silence.

When the party arrived at the inn, they found the wildest confusion and excitement prevailing there. The postmistress and Dr. Atzinger, with the men and maids of the house and several peasants, were standing in a group before the door talking eagerly. They parted and made way for the newcomers to enter the inn.

"This is a most unfortunate day!" Dr. Atzinger whispered to Delmar, detaining him as he would have passed him. "Dr. Putzer, who seemed so wonderfully well this morning, is dead. He wished to rest after his conversation with you, and when I went to his room half an hour afterwards, I found him dead in his bed. I hastened hither to let you know of it, and have just heard what has happened here. These are strange occurrences!"

The intelligence of the doctor's death did not surprise Delmar,--he could not pause now to reflect upon its suddenness. As briefly as possible he instructed Dr. Atzinger to make arrangements for a suitable funeral, and then hurried after his friends up the stairs to the hall into which the various apartments for the guests opened.

Here they found Uncle Balthasar and Hansel pacing to and fro in eager conversation, discussing the various discoveries that had been made in Bertram's and Aunt Minni's apartments. From time to time Uncle Balthasar stepped into his room, the door of which stood open, that he might administer a few words of consolation to his wife, who lay moaning on her sofa, returning shortly to continue his consultation with the postmaster as to what had best be done,--a consultation in which neither had arrived at any conclusion.

The good old man was awaiting his niece's arrival with the greatest impatience, and from Herr Delmar, in whom he had implicit confidence, he looked for instant advice. He had constantly assured his Minni that Delmar would know exactly how to compel the waiting-maid to relinquish her booty. His heart was lightened of its load when the party from the castle made their appearance. "Thank God, my dear, that you are come!" he exclaimed, cordially embracing his niece. "What to think of this confounded affair I'm sure I can't tell!"

And Uncle Balthasar went on to tell as well as he could what there was to be told; his good heart rebelled at the thought of the possibility that his dear Guido had run off with a thief, but proof seemed too strong for him; he had with difficulty prevented the postmaster from sending a couple of men on horseback in pursuit of the fugitives; he would not resort to so extreme a measure without consulting his niece and Herr Delmar.

Neither, until this moment, had Eva believed in Bertram's guilt, but now, when the postmaster showed her into Bertram's room where the floor was strewed with linen and articles of clothing, and held up to her the two gilt handles which she recognized as those belonging to her casket; when he related to her and to all that he had found Bertram's door locked, and had opened it with a master-key; that Nanette had driven off in the carriage with Bertram; that he had helped him lift his portmanteau into the vehicle, and had wondered at its weight; that the box, if it were stolen, must have been packed into the portmanteau, or it would have been seen,--all these revelations wellnigh destroyed Eva's confidence.

And there was other ground for suspicion of the fugitives. Nanette had been in Aunt Minni's room just before her departure, and Aunt Minni had left the key in the drawer where she kept her purse. The purse was now gone.

Uncle Balthasar had first suspected from the finding of the metal handles in Bertram's room that the waiting-maid had stolen Eva's casket; he could not believe in Bertram's guilt. What lover would steal his betrothed's money and jewels! Still it was strange that the handles should be found in Bertram's room where his clothes were scattered about. Hansel besides maintained that the box could have left the inn only in Bertram's portmanteau.

There was still however a doubt as to whether the ebony casket were really gone. The door leading from the hall into Eva's room was locked, and Hansel had found, upon trying to open it with his master-key, that it was also bolted inside. He had tried to enter the room from Bertram's apartment, but his key was constructed only for the doors opening upon the hall, and they had not yet been able to inspect the interior of Eva's room.

Neither Hansel nor Uncle Balthasar had thought of sending for the locksmith to force the lock; this simple expedient was now suggested by Delmar, and the village locksmith opened the door without difficulty. The casket was missing, and there was no longer any room for doubt as to who had stolen it; even Uncle Balthasar declared indignantly that his dear Guido was neither more nor less than a common thief.

"Did the casket contain articles of value?" Delmar asked.

"All my jewels and my dear father's last gift to me, with a sum of money, the amount of which I do not precisely know."

"But I can tell you, my pet, that it must have been four thousand thalers, at least," said Uncle Balthasar.

"The scoundrel shall not escape with his booty!" Paul exclaimed. "Herr Postmaster, have your two fleetest horses saddled. Leo, you and I will pursue the rascal, and if we cannot catch him we'll send a telegram after him."

The postmaster would have obeyed, but Eva prevented him. "You must not think of any pursuit, Herr Delmar," she said pleadingly. "Even although Herr von Bertram should be guilty, I would not for the world have him apprehended as a thief. And I cannot believe in his guilt; his letter----"

Paul laughed. "That magnificent letter again! There is nothing left for me but to make a clean breast of my sins; only to you however, and to my dear Hilda, from whom I have promised never to have a secret. Will you come out on the balcony with Hilda and me and listen to me for a few moments?"

With a blush Eva acquiesced. She put her hand within Hilda's arm and went out upon the balcony. Delmar followed them, whispering to Kuno as he passed him, "Pray be ready, my noble knight. As soon as I call bring every one out upon the balcony. I make you responsible for Leo; bring him, by fair means or foul, living or dead; only bring him."

"What are you about now?"

"Number Three! Some people must have happiness thrust upon them. Bring me Leo!"

"You shall have him," Kuno smilingly assured him, in a low tone; and to make sure, after a few whispered words to Aline, he took Leo's arm and walked to and fro in the hall with him, consulting as to the best means for the recovery of FrÄulein Eva's casket.

Meanwhile, Paul had joined Eva and Hilda upon the balcony. He had promised to make a full confession of his sins, and he did so, telling Eva with entire frankness how he had known for a long time of Bertram's utter worthlessness. He did not conceal the fact that he had not intended at first to open her eyes to the true character of her betrothed, and that his determination to do so had been the result of the more intimate acquaintance with her which had reversed his former harsh judgment of her, and of the knowledge that Leo loved her and was perhaps loved in return.

As frankly he explained to her that he had delayed unmasking Bertram until Leo and herself should have had time to learn to know each other, and until Leo's affection should have grown so intense as to break down the stubborn pride that forbade his passion for the heiress. Paul concluded by confessing that he had that very morning forced Bertram to write the 'lofty-minded' letter, every word of which he had dictated himself, and that he had thus driven the desperate man to shameless robbery.

One fact however Delmar suppressed: he said no word of the sum he had paid Bertram as the price of the letter. "My tale is ended," Paul concluded, "and is, after all, only a continuation of our conversation in Leo's room at the castle. You then said, in conclusion, 'I must not and will not see Herr von Heydeck again.' Tell me frankly, FrÄulein Eva, will you not reverse that decree?"

While Delmar spoke, Eva had listened with her mind and heart in an uproar of conflicting emotions. She felt indignation and disgust at Bertram's baseness, and she was covered with shame that she should ever have had the slightest confidence in him or given him a right to claim her hand. At the same time she was conscious of an ecstatic sense that she was saved from infinite peril; that she was free from the disgraceful fetters that had bound her, and that she might aspire to the fulfilment of her wildest dreams of happiness. She looked gratefully into Paul's eyes as he put this last question to her, and said frankly and honestly, "Yes!"

For which Hilda threw her arms around her and embraced her tenderly, while Paul called out, "All's well that ends well! Come all of you,--Kuno, Leo, Uncle Balthasar!"----

And they came: Herwarth laughing as he conducted Leo, Uncle Balthasar wondering where there was any cause for merriment, and Aline hastening to embrace her friend.

"Come here, Fortune's favourite that you are!" Paul called out to the astonished Leo. "By the right which I possess, as your elder and wiser friend, and which I have won over the lovely Eva by former service, I herewith place her dear hand in yours, and proclaim you the happy Number Three!" Then turning to the rest he said, "Dear friends, I ask your congratulations for the newly-betrothed pair, Eva Schommer and Leo von Heydeck. May all the good the gods provide for happy lovers be theirs!"

"Amen!" said Kuno; and Uncle Balthasar added his voice, although he did not yet understand what it was all about.

Leo heard the words spoken, uncertain whether he were awake or dreaming; he held Eva's hand in his,--she did not withdraw it, and when he looked into her blushing face her eyes met his own. A happy smile was upon her lips. She certainly did not resent Delmar's words, however surprised she might be. He pressed her hand, and felt a gentle pressure in return.

Was Paul jesting? Leo asked himself. In Eva's beaming eyes he read what destroyed in an instant the foolish prejudice that had separated him from his love. He forgot the pride that would have held him aloof from her; he forgot the miserable words 'too rich!' Love conquered; he bent above Eva, and said in low intense tones, "You do not repulse me? You are then my own forever?"

And as he heard her whispered 'yes' he forgot everything but his great happiness, and imprinted his first kiss upon her lips.